Doorway to Nowhere
by The Ironic Authoress
Summary: Legolas has been captured by a sadistic sorceress. Even after he is rescued, how many scars will remain?
1. Chapter 1, Take Four

_Hey, The Ironic Authoress here,_ _just a few ANs before we start. _

_First, the boring stuff. The characters mentioned in this story, exempting the original ones, listed at the bottom of the chapter, do not and never will belong to me and I will never have any public rights to them. When I am done playing with them, they will be returned, safely, to bubble-wrapped, peanut-packet, extra insulated safety._

_And let me just say, that this story wouldn't be the same without the help of my wonderful beta, Siriusgirl1!_

_Snip snip! Cut cut! Redo Redo! Thank you Calenlass Greenleaf1, Siriusgirl1, and They-stole-my-name. I appreaciate ya'll telling my about my error and I hope this is a little better!_

_Oh and to the two people who were kind enough to put this on StoryAlert, sorry about the half a dozen "Chapter Two" Alerts. That was me being kinda lazy and not wanting to have to delete the entire story, again. Sorry...._

She was in her garden, as usual, when she saw them. An elf, chained and struggling, being taken into the Tower ruins. It was his hair that caught Emyne's attention. It had shined in the sun and caught her eye. A group of men surrounded him, pulling the chains that were connected to his wrists and waist. When one of the men tripped him and when he fell the others kicked him and hauled him to his feet.

Emyne's heart went out to the poor elf. She knew that if he entered the Tower, it would take a miracle to get him out. Swallowing, she gathered her things and hurried away from the scene. She saw so many just disappear in that cold place, a place that had once held cherished memories for her, and never return. Seeing that she had now reached her cottage , she walked inside and set her basket on the table. Dashing her fist across her eyes, she wiped away tears that had no consequence; tears that would make no difference.

A few calming breaths later, she began sorting her herbs, hanging bunches to dry, and picking out ones to stew for oils to put into soaps. After her basket was empty she went into the upstairs and took the bedclothes from her room, piling them with practiced ease in to the basket. Grabbing a small cake of soap, she made her way down to the stream that ran not far from her home. A few moments later, she reached the stream and began to wash her clothing. She scrubbed at the sheets, lathering them up and trying to enjoy the sweet smell her lavender washing soap emitted. When she had finished and had piled her now clean laundry into her basket, Emyne made her way back to the cottage. She had just begun to hang the damp sheets over the lower branches of the oaks that surrounded her cottage, when she heard the scream.

It was a high pitched almost animalistic sound that forced a shudder down Emyne's spine, even as recollections of the Elf she had seen earlier came back to her. She felt her eyes begin to water once more and squeezed them shut.

When she heard a roar and the gallop of horse hooves thundering toward her, however, her eyes flashed open. Staring down the forest path, she soon saw a short man with red braids and dressed in what appeared to be dwarven clothing. He was astride a tall white horse, and when the animal halted next to her, Emyne saw that the rider was, in fact, a dwarf.

"Hail, Master Dwarf. What brings you to these parts?" she said. Her voice was horribly shaky and she struggled to get her emotions under control.

"Nothing that concerns you, maid." was the gruff answer she received as she watched the Dwarf struggle atop the horse. "Tell me, have you seen an Elf around in these parts? He would be tall, with yellow hair, like spun gold."

"Yellow hair..." Emyne murmured, visions of the Elf's glimmering hair clouding her mind's eye.

"Aye," The Dwarf paused, shifting uncomfortably astride the tall horse. "I fear that..he was captured, not a week ago on the Plains."

Emyne's breathing quickened as she noted the Dwarf's evident worry, recalling the eerie screams she had heard.

"He is in the Tower ruins, Master Dwarf, and I would not recommend you following him," she found herself saying, before she could stop herself. Seeing the Dwarf's questioning glance, she elaborated. "I know the mistress of that Tower and she is cold woman. He is not to be trifled with." She paused. Your friend is gone, Master Dwarf. Elves that enter the...Tower, they...don't return alive. I...am sorry. "When she finished, Emyne saw that the Dwarf's eyes were watering and her heart hardened with a resolve she did not think she possessed.

She had seen Garniwen take many people captive into that tower. But, this Dwarf, _this _Dwarf, was the only one who had ever followed. She knew not his relationship with the Elf she had seen, but it was evident that the kinship was strong enough for the Dwarf to follow the Elf here.

"Master Dwarf…"

"My name is Gimli, maid."

"I am Emyne the Red." she returned. "Now, Master Gimli, I could get into the tower and possibly negotiate his release. The mistress of that place and I...we...know each other, and I could, at the very least, speak with her."

"That would be very kind…but I cannot allow it."

"Please, you have no knowledge of how many innocent souls have been dragged into that Tower and...have never returned. Please let me help you."

Gimli thought hard for a moment, before reluctantly answering,"I have kin waiting for me in the Glittering Caves. I fear that if I do not arrive on schedule, they will become worried and that I could not allow. The journey there, and back, will take me a few days…and who knows what could happen during that time…?" He paused, staring hard into the distance. "Yet I must meet with my kin first…" He turned to Emyne. "If I return in a few days, a week at the most, will you show me the way to this tower you speak of? Or even take me to see its'…Mistress?"

Emyne did not like the thought of leaving the poor Elf there for that long…for she had some idea of what could happen to him, yet she knew that it would be pointless to argue with the bearded rider, even more so as he was a Dwarf. So she nodded.

"Of course, Master Gimli. I will aid you in any manner I can, so that you may see your friend once more. This I promise you."

The Dwarf nodded, a grave expression on his face as he stared down at her from atop his steed.

"I thank you, young maid. I had best be off then… Keep an eye on things until I get back, but do not get involved. If the mistress of the Tower is as…dangerous as you think her to be, I would not risk your involvement in this…"

Emyne nodded solemnly, as she raised a hand in farewell.

"Farewell, Master Gimli."

As the dwarf rode off, she thought on all she knew of Garniwen and the old Tower Ruins. Garniwen, the Tower mistress and a dark witch, was the cruelest person she could think of. She had heard more than one tale of what the witch had done to the poor souls who had entered her Tower.

But, the problem was, that Emyne could also remember the years that she had known a different Garniwen. The tall redheaded woman who had been her mentor. Her mother's sister had taught her many things about the magic that she used almost everyday of her life. Unfortunantly, Emyne had shown no aptitude for magic. After Emyne's mother died and her father, Taurion, had a falling out with Garniwen, Emyne left her aunt, beginning her life as a travelling healer.

Emyne's cottage was at least three miles away. She had only been able to see the Elf due to the fact that her parents had been Elven. Her father had met her in Lothlorien, when she was a handmaiden to the Lady Celebrian and he had wed her four hundred years later, as was customary for Maiar courtships. Emyne had been two hundred years old when her mother passed on from a wasting sickness. A spell of some sort. Taurion had searched for many months, attempting to find who had killed his wife, to no avail.

Emyne's father had taken over her education then, teaching her elven medicine and mortal herblore alike. He had helped her carve her willow wood bow, and had taught her how to defend herself. He had coped with the pain of Merenwen's death for as long as he could before journeying to the West when Emyne had been three hundred.

Merenwen had never been on good terms with her sister, and their enemity had only increased as they grew older. Garniwen had loved Taurion from afar, and her hatred for her sister grew even blacker when Merenwen married the Elven healer. Hoping that her sister's hate would stop at her, Emyne's mother had kept the strained relationship from her husband and child. Emyne and Taurion had loved Garniwen as a member of their family.

When Merenwen died, Garniwen tried to capture Taurion's heart, to no avail. With this rejection still frech in her heart, she journeyed to Orthanc, seeking refuge and power. Saruman had taught Garniwen many things, sharing her new found love of destruction and pain.

She wanted revenge on her brother-in-law, but, strangely enough, could never bring herself to even attempt to harm her niece. .

Thinking of her parents and her aunt, Emyne walked back to her cottage and began gathering medicinal herbs from her stores and setting them in groups. Some would be boiled for a sedative, others for disenfectants, and others still for stewing and mixing into ointments. Judging by the screams she had often heard from the Tower, this elf might be injured, and badly so. She brought her various herbs and ointments upstairs and laid them out on a table after which she filled the pot hanging over her unused fire with water and set kindling into the fireplace.

Emyne busied herself with putting new sheets on the bed in an attempt to distract herself from what she was about to attempt. When she had finally finished preparing for her visitor, she changed into the leggings and a tunic that she used for traveling. After eating a light meal, Emyne gathered her staff and whistled for her mare, Isla.

Mounting the mare, the young wizardess took one last look at her little cottage, then turned and set off at a fast pace for her aunt's tower and the captive elf.

**Original Characters:**

**Emyne: Main character, Elven healer. **

**Garniwen: Emyne's aunt. Had been tutored by Saruman the White. **

**Taurion: Elf, Emyne's father. Passed over to Valinor.**

**Merenwen: Elfmaid, Emyne's mother. Desceased.**


	2. Chapter 2

Emyne had arrived at her aunt's tower. After the young healer had reined her mare to a nearby tree, she began walking towards the tall stone needle.

As she began to walk through the entrance, a pair of dark haired men stopped her.

"Halt, and state your business. For what purpose do you enter out Lady's Tower?" One of the men asked.

"My name is Emyne. I am here to visit my Lady Aunt." Emyne answered.

The two men looked at each other uncertainly. They flanked Emyne and tried to take her by the arms, but she shook them off.

"I am perfectly capable of finding my aunt's chambers, gentlemen! I have been here before, you know."  
They released her and she hurried on her way.

As she wound her way through the tower, she was filled with a great longing. She remembered the halls and various doors as places that she had played and studied as a young girl. She was surprised to notice that she remembered each room. As she passed the doors, she could summon a happy memory for each one. Those were the days she missed. Her father had been here, and her mother…. Emyne stopped herself. She wouldn't think of Merenwen, not now. Not when she needed all the strength and confidence she could muster.

When she reached her aunt's chamber, Emyne knocked on the great oak door. A sharp cry answered her and then a clipped female voice granted her entry.

As the she-elf entered the room, she looked around for the elf. There he was, tied to a table. Great leather straps went around his chest and thighs, and iron chains bound his wrists and ankles to the wooden surface. A sickly green pallor marred his countenance and he had bruises and black powder on his chest and arms. He was bleeding freely from a cut on his upper arm. Emyne noticed that his lower half was covered by a pair of ripped leggings. They were damaged most at the top, near the fastenings. What had her aunt been doing to this poor elf?

"Emyne! My dear girl! What brings you to my home on such a day?" Garniwen asked. She was leaning over the elf. One hand rested on the table and the other was trailing a long ceremonial knife over his lower abdomen.

"Hello, aunt. I had just heard of the wonderful work you've been doing here with the elves and I had hoped to see for myself," Emyne forced herself to reply as she swallowed the bile that rose in her throat.

"Wonderful, my dear! Simply wonderful!" Garniwen cackled, "Perhaps you would like a demonstration of my latest invention."

Shaking his head, the elf's eyes widened as he tried to speak, but Garniwen simply slapped him. Her long nails left a jagged cut across his jaw.

"Mayhap later, Garniwen. Might I inspect the creature? Just to see what you've been up to?" Was Emyne's hasty reply.

"Of course, darling. If you want to have some real fun, make him drink some of the blue vial. Over there on the counter," Garniwen answered, pointing a table covered in multicolored vials and flasks.

The door opened with a loud bang. Emyne watched as the blonde elf jumped and both of them winced as the chains and straps bit into his already much abused flesh.

A man walked in a whispered something into Garniwen's ear. The older woman let out a barking laugh and said, "Excuse me, dear. There's a problem in the lower level. I'll be back in an hour or so. Have fun!"  
As soon as the door closed, Emyne rushed over to the table. Seeing her, the elf began to struggle. Emyne bent down to eye-level and whispered to him, " Stop it! I'm trying to help you. You can get away. But I need you to trust me. Please." He kept the wary look in his eyes, but the elf allowed her to undo the chains and straps. Helping the elf sit up, she quickly undid her traveling cloak and wrapped it around him. The ellon was shivering! Shivering!

Emyne remembered that no guards had monitored the hallways. Lifting the surprisingly weightless elf to his feet, she began making slow progress out the door and through the stairways and halls. Slow progress, for the elf was unable to take more than a few steps at a time.

After what seem like a lifetime, Emyne and her rescued elf had made their way to ground level. Two men walked over to them.

" What are you doing, woman?" the taller one questioned.

"This servant has displeased my aunt and, as a result, she has given him to me. I am to continue her research with him at my home." Emyne lied smoothly.

The man gave a short nod, and the pair of elves made their way over to the trees.

Whistling softly for Isla, Emyne helped the elf onto the tall mare's back. She mounted up behind him and then set a quick course back to her cottage.

Emyne couldn't help but notice the small whimpers of pain the elf made as her horse galloped. Leaning down, she tightened her grip on the elf and murmured a short apology in his ear.

When they had reached the tiny cottage, Emyne dismounted quickly, leaving a hand on the elf's waist to steady him. When she removed it to help him dismount, he fell from the horse and to the ground, taking the she elf with him. They both let out a cry as they fell. Well, Emyne let out an 'oomph', not a cry. But there was no mistaking the sound issuing from the wounded elf's mouth for anything but a yelp of pain.

Rolling out from under him, Emyne gently pulled the elf to his feet. Wrapping one of his arms around her shoulder, the blonde elf helped Emyne carry him into the house. Once inside, the pair faced a new challenge: getting upstairs.

It took them a while, with much grunting and panting on Emyne's part and much whimpering and, occasionally, cries of pain on the elf's, they made it to the second story.

Once there, Emyne laid the elf out on the bed and began to look him over. His arms were covered in bruises and small cuts. He had a thin layer of black powder on his abdomen and it, too, was covered in bruises. The elf immediately backed to one side of the bed.

"Really? You still don't trust me?" Emyne murmered.

"You said that you were going to continue your _aunts research!_ Why should I let you touch me?" he spat.

"It was a lie! Curse you; I just got you out of there! Is this really how people repay the ones who help you where you are from?" Emyne snapped.

Seeing the taken back look in the elf's eyes, Emyne felt badly. "Listen, I'm sorry. But, I probably angered a very powerful person, just now. Family, to boot! And I'm still a little on edge. What's your name?"

"Legolas," He coughed out.

"I am Emyne. Will you let me help you turn over?" The she elf asked.

"No!" The elf yelled, lashing out with his fist. Emyne stumbled back. She backed up to a table near the wall and grabbed a vial and small cloth. Turning, she doused the cloth with the liquid from the vial. It was a lightweight sedative. He would wake up in about five minutes, and, hopefully, be a little less feisty. Legolas had fallen back onto the bed. The pain in his stomach had forced him to be still. Emyne crept over to side of the bed and pressed the cloth to Legolas' mouth and nose. He struggled for a minute, then lay still.

"I'm so sorry." Emyne muttered.

Emyne gently turned the elf onto his stomach. His back was covered in lash marks. When she put her hand near, his back radiated heat.

Striding over to the fireplace, Emyne quickly struck a fire and, within a few minutes, was steeping _athelas_, yarrow, and willow bark in the boiling water. When the concoction was done, Emyne poured a large amount into a bowl and brought it over to the bed. Taking a soft cloth Emyne bathed Legolas' inflamed back with the rapidly cooling disinfectant.

As she dressed the elf's back, she began to wonder what her aunt had really been doing with the elf. Turning Legolas onto his back again. First, Emyne cleaned the cuts on his arms. One was so long that she made a mental note to stitch it up after she was done seeing to the rest of Legolas' wounds. For now, she contented herself with just wrapping it in a long white bandage.

When it came time for her to clean the elf's stomach, she took a small basin of water and soaked a new clothe in it. By then, Legolas had woken up.

"You drugged me." He muttered, tears standing in his eyes. "What did you do to me? I have a right to know! "

"I cleaned your back and the cuts on your arms, nothing more, nothing less. I would die before causing another of the Firstborn harm. I am a healer. That is my vocation. Please let me help you." She soothed. He gave a small nod, and let Emyne prop him up on a pillow, allowing her to finish her work.

Wringing it out, she started to rinse the black powder off Legolas' chest. She quickly pulled her hand back, however, when the elf gave a short agonized cry.

"It burns! Please, make it stop!" He whimpered, clenching his teeth together.

Emyne took a dry cloth and sponged the water off the elf prince's chest. Seeing that this didn't really help, she took the cloth and fanned it over him, hoping that it would dry his chest.

"What is this?" She asked, bewildered. She had never encountered anything like this.

"Your _aunt_ called it Dragon Fire. She said that it hurt even more when she took it off. That was how she got me to stop pleading with her to make it stop. " He spat.

"Legolas, you do realize that it has to come off, or I can't clean the cuts on your chest and stomach, right?" Emyne ventured.

The elven prince gritted his teeth and nodded. "Just do it."


End file.
